


In the Light of the Sun

by thesleepingsiren



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: (and i'm not over the fact that CHB didn't even come over to make sure Percy was okay), (mostly because the gods suck), (not cool), Asexual Character, BAMF Percy Jackson, Dark Percy Jackson, How Do I Tag, I'll add character tags as I go on, Powerful Percy Jackson, SoN but if Hera changed Percy's gender, fem!Percy - Freeform, nobody took a flight to visit the roman camp because they had to make a warship?, off topic but piper will be in this but BAMF as hell because i love her, percy will kill a bitch, technically? it's confusing, the title is pretty much irrelevant i haven't really thought about it too much, there are reasons we will get to why, yes i'm addressing that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25916821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesleepingsiren/pseuds/thesleepingsiren
Summary: Instead of simply being memory wiped, Hera makes Percy female. As the newly christened Persephone struggles with her identity and feelings towards the gods and Camp Half-Blood, she wonders: in the light of the sun, is the world really worth saving?A darker look into Percy's relationships with those around her and addressing issues I had with HoO.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 59





	In the Light of the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> so i kinda suck at being an active fanfic writer, but i've been strapped for original work ideas, so here we are!  
> i hope to put out more updates soon :)

The night has swallowed the forest, the all-encompassing darkness shrouding the forest and all who reside in it. Deer prance through the shadows and birds chirp as the moonlight settles on a lone girl sleeping in a small clearing. Her arms are posed perfectly and each strand of hair has its place—even her fingers are delicately positioned. Under the moon’s rays she glows, the tattered clothes she wears looking godlike and the stress she’s carrying evaporated.

She’s too peaceful to be natural, but the forest ignores the girl and rejoices in the full moon anyway.

Nobody can see the three women standing over the sleeping girl, a myriad of unreadable expressions on their faces. 

Hera stands in the middle, the Queen of the Gods observing the slumbering girl with a scientific interest. Her chiton gleams in the darkness as she adjusts her peacock-feathered cloak, interest in the girl waning.

The moon goddess glows in her element, radiating power and comfort to those in her domain as she bites her lip. Her expression matches that of Hestia, whose hands itch to caress the poor girl’s cheek and lead her to safety.

But the Queen has spoken, and with her family divided, she has little sway.

“It will not work,” Artemis states, returning her arrow to its quiver. She hesitates for a moment before speaking again. “Percy has never been one to play into our hands.”

The goddess of marriage scowls at her, but the moon goddess doesn’t take her eyes off of the girl before them. Hera flickers, the golden divine light threatening to emerge, but she calms herself. “It will,” she insists, straightening her chiton.

The eldest of them all kneels next to the hero, thumb cradling her cheek. Her eyes shimmer with tears as she whispers, “ad astra per aspera, my hero.” With her words, the three goddesses shift to their Roman counterparts.

Vesta levels a harsh stare, flaming eyes meeting Juno’s. “Pray this succeeds, sister. The fate of Olympus has been decided.” Flames tickle the forest as the goddess of the hearth disappears.

Diana looks to the Queen of Olympus. “You play with our hero’s mind, and I hope for our sake that it is what must be done.” The huntress draws her bow and fires a single shot into the sky as moonlight fills the clearing. The sleeping girl begins to stir, and the goddesses vanish.

Her eyes open, sea green orbs scanning the area as she draws her sword and readies for an attack. She doesn’t know how she’s realized the pen in her pocket is a weapon, but when she relaxes, instincts take over and her weapon is tucked away.

Blinking, she tries to clear the fog clouding her memory, but the haze remains.

Her name is Persephone Jackson, but something about it feels wrong. Searing pain runs through her scalp as she searches for answers but finds none. Persephone isn’t her name—she’s sure of that—and her gut tells her something is _very_ wrong. Flashes of memory pull her under—

_Blonde curls, stormy gray eyes glaring playfully. “Because you’re my friend, Seaweed—”_

_A bleat of a satyr dressed hurriedly in a wedding gown. “Hurry!”_

_An auburn haired teenager, though she was millenia older, shedding a tear as she sobbed over her friend’s—_

_Red hair and paint splattered clothes, a sword fluttering through her body. “Hey! Do you—”_

_“Don’t let it happen again,” a blonde man with a scar running down his face, blood pooling from his stab—_

_Feet dangling over the pier, leaning against the same blonde as before while they mourned, together._

—and she feels like she’s suffocating as she collapses to the ground and lets out an ear-piercing scream. Her head burns and she can’t make sense of the hurricane festering inside her. Her body dry-heaves in an attempt to expel whatever it is that’s plaguing her but it remains.

The pain settles and she rises, sword elongated to form a makeshift-crutch. Her gut pulls her westward and she follows it.

The only thing she’s absolutely sure of is that the answer lies west, and she’s sure as Hades going to find it.


End file.
